DM Bigrin's Second Darkness

A foul omen looms in the sky over the scoundrel city of Riddleport, an ominous shadow that defies the light. Is it a curse laid millennia ago by forgotten mages? Does it forewarn against the return of some terrible foe? Or does it portend a terrible

Lefrik glances at Anklebiter, then... "It does seem odd." he looks to Saul, "And I doubt anyone will refuse the money, but I am still not convinced Smeed is as guilty as you claim. It maybe Anklebiter is right and there are others playing games in the shadows"

"You bring up a good point, Lefrik," Bruendor grumbled, ignoring the fact the point originally belonged to the greenskin. "Someone wants Saul and Croat fighting. The question is: who stands to gain? My guess is that it's someone who's angling in on Croat's organization. Use a small force to weaken a larger, stronger force, and then use your men to defeat the weakened force. Who cares if the small force gets crushed?"

He looks at the other people in the room. "We're that small force. If we don't figure out what the big picture is, we're in for a world of pain."

Kelendra puts a hand over her new scar and blanches at the words of the dwarf.

"I don't think we want to be that smaller force. I'd say a better plan is exposing the manipulator and then creating an alliance with Croat's larger force and put ourselves on the side of those doing the crushing."

Calla rolls her eyes at Saul's extravagance -- No one pays more when they don't have to; I learned that lesson early on -- but says nothing.

"Then it appears we have to simply wait and see what happens next. Still, forewarned is forearmed. Next time you send someone out with a large amount of gold, though, Saul, I suggest you let us accompany him. Most of us can handle ourselves"

"Aye, I will do just that. In the meantime, we need a new floor manager and it wouldn't hurt if one of you were to step up to the post. I need someone good with people, numbers, and negotiation. Talk amongst yourselves, and if anyone wants the job, see me in the morning. Otherwise, I'd say you all earned the rest of the day and night off."

The Floor manager position is simply a badge for your character, at this point. It is relatively meaningless in terms of the campaign. Also, in deference to the relatively slow gameplay to this point, I am going to fast forward to the next scene sometime this afternoon. If you want to flex RP posts in after my next post, feel free.

"I'm not even going to apply," Anklebiter says, grinning widely. But the smile soon fades. Provided everyone is out of hearing of Saul and the non-adventurer staff Anklebiter continues to speak: "Is something... off about our employer?"

"I can do the job, if no one else is interested. I'm no diplomat, but I've got a head for figures." This is said dispassionately - it's clear Bruendor's not eagerly jumping at the job.

"I wonder what he's not telling us," Bruendor whispered. "I think we might need to do a bit of snooping about our employer, and make certain he really is on the up and up. I'd like to believe that he's wanting to turn away from his past, but if there's one thing I've learned in Riddleport, it's that everyone has an agenda. It would take a cold and calculating man to knowingly send one of your employees to his death to have your hit squad take out the guy that you owe money to." Bruendor grimaces, partially due to the growing distaste of Riddleport, and partially because it took the greenskin mentioning this to bring any of this up.

"The job is yours Bruendor, though I'll help with any diplomatic actions if needed."

When Saul has left the room, Kelendra turns to her companions and quietly voices her suspicions.

"Maybe we searched the wrong residence for signs of Larur, maybe we should have searched the Golden Goblin itself? It seems the crime of his disappearance and the attack in the kitchen both had an inside hand at work."

"Better you stay with her if she does," Anklebiter suggests. "For backup, see? One female, they could just push down in the storeroom and cover her mouth. Two can wink and jiggle as one, but one can scream if the other is nabbed."

"Protection, not amusement, was the greenskin's goal in this, Calla,"Lefrik shakes his head, then looks to Kelendra, "whatever means you use to search, it might be wise to take someone with you when you do it. Indeed, a look out for each scout might be the way to go."

"I'll pass on the demon outfit, I know those demons come from a hot place, but that skimpy garb is too cold for my liking, especially here where Saul goes cheap on the heating, might as well call it the Colden Goblin. But even more importantly, I think any investigating we do needs to go under the notice of anyone in this establishment, we don't know who may be involved in what, or even if Saul himself is involved in what happened to Larur. Lets wait until well after closing, then this night do a bit of sneaking about to see what we uncover behind closed doors here inside our own building."

"Mmm.. if caught, we tell him we thought criminals might be breaking in? Or that we heard something suspicious?" Lefrik states. "Lying is not always a good way to go, but I think the gods will forgive us a little one."

"We should not take this task lightly, Saul does pay us and biting the hand that feeds you is never a good idea. But we need truth in this matter that involves the apparent death of Larur and it seems we aren't getting that now."

"Let us choose our roles for this night time investigation and work as a team. I'll serve as a lookout and distraction if needed, i hope that someone else will join me in that task as two sets of eyes are better than one. Lefrik, I hope that's you, it seems we're better suited to standing guard and keeping curious people away, while Calla, Anklebiter, and Bruendor are better suited to searching the office."

Sneaking through the Goblin in the dead of night is a risky business, especially upstairs. The floorboards creak, and the odd geometry of the place lends itself well to bruised shins and stubbed toes. Still, not that many people live on the upper floor - just Saul and yourselves - so it is relatively quiet.

When sneaking into your boss' office, there are three main things to take into consideration. First, where is his bodyguard? It is not usually a good thing to walk in on someone whose job it is to make trouble for people who walk in uninvited. Fortunately, Bojask drinks heavily in the evenings and was passed out in his room downstairs. The second obstacle is the boss, who sleeps in the rooms next to the office area. Vancaskerin's heavy snores made that particular obstacle not much of an issue. The third is the possibility that the door to the office has a trap or alarm on it.

In this case, there was both. Bruendor found the trap, a simple tripwire that dropped kernels of dried corn on a tin plate. Anklebiter, on instinct, scanned for magic and identified a magical alarm set to a specific floorboard. With a toothy grin he pointed it out to the others, and let them know to avoid that area.

Saul's office was just as you remember it from your last visit here. The plush chairs in front of the large desk, the cigar box, and the expensive-looking snuff box. Several papers are sitting untidily on the desk, which turn out to be bills of various kinds.

A wooden door leads from the office proper into the records room. Here, rows of cabinets sit hunched like gargoyles in a dark space. A simple check shows that these cabinets are locked tight.

Everyone:

All right, make your checks, tell me what you are searching, what you are looking for, anything. Be descriptive. Have fun.

Bruendor rubs a gauntleted hand across his bare chin, contemplating their next move. He looks at the rest of them, and speaks softly. "Alright, me and the greenskin will check the cabinets for traps - mundane and magical. After that, you folks can search them for clues. We might not find anything there, and even if we do, it will probably be ciphered or something. We're looking for something above and beyond the usual grift that Riddleport generates. Let me know if you think you've found something." With that, he creeps towards the cabinets to give them a good once-over.

Mechanics:

I don't think we have the luxury of taking 20 here, so here's a normal Perception check to examine the cabinets for traps and, assuming both I and Anklebiter don't find any, a Disable Device check to open them up.

Bruendor didn't notice any traps or alarms on the cabinets, and it was the matter of moments to pick the simple locks. There were six cabinets full of papers. most were perfectly legible, though there were some that looked to either be in an unknown language or possible in code.

Linguistis checks for anyone who wants a crack at those

The majority of the papers seem to deal with bills of sale, employee contracts, or local licenses. For a known criminals' haven, the town of Riddleport seemed to be fairly strict on licensing.

Lefrik stays on watch with Kelendra. A distracting woman she, but he realizes his allies and friend... By the gods, can I really think of Anklebitter as a friend? I suppose I do. Never thought I'd see the day, but I trust and like him. I certainly trust him more than this spot plagued city. ... they need him. And he will keep diligent watch.

Bruendor grimaces as he finds writing that none of his compatriots, or Anklebiter, can read. "Alright, if we can't read this, we make a copy and take it with us." He assists Calla in investigating the desk, then copies the strange language onto a piece of paper, taking a few of the pages beneath them as well to hide what was written on them.

There are about 300 sheets of documents that you can't easily read. Gonna be a long night of copying ;) I'll make it easy for you.

Though there were many sheets of paper written in the strange script, one, about 3 pages long, looked to be a detailed bill of lading. Perhaps the perfect Rosetta stone to copy out and come back later once you've deciphered the script.

In the desk, there isn't much besides some writing materials, stationary, a dagger, and a small silver cigar cutter.

With all the papers rustling and the murmurs of soft voices, it is some time before anyone notices that Saul's regular snoring has ceased.

After the copying is done, as soon as Anklebiter notices the cessation of Saul's snores, he jumps up and down and gestures at the others to 'Get out!' Assuming they head for the door, he immediately mutters the words of magic while retreating after them: "Vestimentum nebulae."

Fog fills the room. Thick, pea-soup fog, cold as the outdoors.

Provided everyone agrees to leave the room, Anklebiter casts Obscuring Mist to cover our getaway. Saul should not be able to see us, and with some quick thinking and acting, we should be able to get out of this situation without any big trouble. I know Saul will be able to see something weird happened, but the thing to do is to prevent him from linking these goings-on to us, in my less than humble opinion.

The exit was made fairly carefully, all things considered. Anklebiter stubbed his toe on one of the overstuffed chairs in the office as he scarpered. The group made their way to their rooms, with nary a pursuit, and unbeknownst to them, Saul's heavy snores picked up once more.

"Well, that was exciting," Calla says as the group begins to split up after its great escape. "We've managed to steal a sheet of paper from our employer with no one the wiser. Ah'd say the rich folk of Riddleport better start makin' sure their doors are locked. Let us know when you figure out what that paper says and we can do it again..."

Back, though I may still be a little brief for a couple days while I recover and catch up on things I missed.